


A Very Sturdy Desk

by hellostarlight20



Series: Prompts [31]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Desk Sex, Exhibitionism, F/M, Masturbation, Multiple Orgasms, Sex, Spanking, Swearing, filthy language, seriously its nothing but sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-08-23 02:47:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8310940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellostarlight20/pseuds/hellostarlight20
Summary: Rose has a fantasy she’s intent to fulfill–one that involves John, his desk, and many, many orgasms.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Daydreaming_Angel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daydreaming_Angel/gifts), [LizAnn_5869](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LizAnn_5869/gifts).



> Blame @caedmonfaith and @Daydreaming_Angel and @AmeliaPonders (she also did a fantastic beta for me!) and @LizAnn_5869 and...there are a lot of people who are to blame for this. Unfortunately, I can't blame anyone but myself for actually writing it-#DeskSexaThon2016!
> 
> This is your last warning: It's Rated Explicit +

Rose Tyler exited the Tube walked confidently down Oxford University’s West Walk to the Department of Physics. Her sage green sundress flirted around her knees and she let the summer sun warm her bare skin. Truthfully, it was a little too chilly for the dress but she’d slung her deep red mac over her purse and didn’t want to slide it back on.

It ruined the effect.

She also wore no knickers, which made the swishing of the fabric feel divine against her waxed pussy. In fact, Rose added an extra sway to her hips just to feel the dress brush her bare arse.

As if she wasn’t already wet and aroused.

All day the memory of waking to John’s mouth bringing her to orgasm kept her on edge. No matter how she tried distracting herself with work and meetings and definitely not bringing herself off in the ladies, all Rose thought about was his fingers in her, the delicious scratch of his goatee on her inner thighs. Her clit throbbed and she desperately wanted to touch herself.

It took every ounce of self-restraint she possessed, which admittedly wasn’t that much, not to use the crowded Tube ride between the gallery and Oxford to bring herself to orgasm.

Her heels tapped over the ancient sidewalk but she ignored the history inherent to each building and the way the old stone structures towered over her. That was not why Rose was striding down the West Walk onto South Walk.

She had other interests in mind.

Nodding to Timmy, who manned the desk today, Rose didn’t stop for a flirt. Though she normally didn’t mind talking to him, despite the fact he had a crush on her, today she was a woman on a mission.

It didn’t take her long to walk to John’s office. He wasn’t there, but then she knew that. Rose knew his schedule as well as she did her own and knew he was now in the middle of his last lecture. Yes, she planned this visit perfectly.

Unlocking the door with the key he gave her, which may or may not have been unethical, Rose eased the door closed but didn’t lock it. That, too, was part of her plan.

She settled herself in his chair, black strappy heels braced wide on his desk. The cool air in the office brushed over her and she moaned. Curling her fingers around the chair’s arms, she spread her legs a little wider and settled the skirt of her sundress around her hips.

Rose dug out her mobile and gently eased the bodice of her dress over her breasts. She chose this dress specifically because of the built in bra, which only sort of worked. But it was because of that feature John loved this dress. If Rose knew it’d be such a big hit, she’d have bought one in every color.

One hand held her mobile, the other toyed with her nipple. Not hard enough to do more than send light shocks of arousal to her already wet pussy, but then this was part of her plan, too.

Body humming, coiled so tightly she wanted to scream, Rose watched the time count down. She purposely teased herself all day, fantasizing about desk sex with John. And now, with the time ticking down, she could barely wait. Her fantasy was about to become a reality.

He never lingered after his last lecture—no, John was the sort to pack up and leave immediately so he could get home.

Her fingers brushed over her bare pussy, teasing her already throbbing clit. Rose settled herself more comfortably in his chair, a large, masculine thing with sturdy arms and wheels that conveniently locked. She swore he bought the chair simply so she could ride him in it. They’d tested it, of course—it was a very sturdy chair. 

She sighed, fingers gliding over her sex. Rose eased them inside, unable—and unwilling—to stop the moan that slipped free. Oh, she was close, so very close, and lazily fucked herself.

Breath coming fast, heart beating rapidly, hips jerking with every teasing touch, she watched the time turn. Rose waited another three minutes until she knew he was out of the building, or damn close to it, before she pressed his number on speed dial.  
********

“Rose?” Doctor John Noble said into the mobile.

He couldn’t help the smile and didn’t much care to. He hadn’t expected her call; they rarely talked between his lectures. Plus she knew that was his final one of the day and he was on his way home. He walked down the street, ignoring everyone as they hurried wherever the hell they hurried to.

“I’m in your office,” she said without preamble.

John stopped. He didn’t even apologize to the woman who bumped into him. He heard the breathless quality in Rose’s voice and his cock twitched.

“Are you?” he asked, voice hardening slightly. “And what are you doing in my office?”

“Sitting in your chair,” she said, and yes, that was her voice hitching.

John swallowed and looked in the general direction of his building. He wasn’t far. “And what are you doing while sitting in my chair?”

“Finger fucking myself.”

All the air left his lungs and John’s cock hardened painfully. He didn’t take another step, but listened to her quick, quiet moans. He loved that sound. Knew that sound—she hovered right on the edge.

“Is the door locked, Rose?” he demanded.

“No.”

John growled and stalked toward his building. “How many fingers, love?”

“Only two, John.” Rose gasped, she didn’t even try to silence herself. But then he knew she wouldn’t—she never did. “I’ve teased myself all day.”

He stopped again and closed his eyes. Christ, she was trying to kill him. “Are you wearing any knickers?”

“No. Haven’t all day.”

All day? John blinked then scowled. “You had that meeting with that arse Finch.”

“Yes.”

“Did you tease yourself while he sat next to you? While he ogled your breasts?”

“Yes. You know how I love the feel of my clothes against my bare pussy.”

“With Finch right there?”

“I thought of you and how jealous you get whenever he looks at me. The way your eyes freeze, like blue ice.”

“Did you come?”

“No.” Her voice caught. John closed his eyes—she flicked her nail over her clit or pressed hard on it. “Not in front of that perv. But I thought about it. My clit’s throbbed for your touch since you woke me with your mouth this morning. Do you know what you do to me, John?”

He choked, cock throbbing. He did know, and he knew exactly how she liked to be touched. “Have you touched yourself all day, love?”

“Oh, yes.”

“And have you come?” he demanded, uncaring who passed him on the street. “Did you come in the ladies’? Or at your desk?”

“No.” Rose moaned again. She was close; he heard it in her voice, in the quickening of her breath. “I wanted to come in your office. I wanted the scent of my orgasm to linger on your chair and on your papers. I want it to smell like me when your students come in for office hours.”

“Rose.” He walked faster, mobile clenched between his fingers. “You may come, love,” he instructed. “I’m walking to the building now. When I arrive, I want you to tell me how many times you’ve come. How many orgasms you’ve fingered yourself to. Understood?”

“Yes!” She came, a long breathless keen of pleasure.

John shut his eyes and ended the call. He walked faster, pushing through a throng of students enjoying the sun and ignoring a colleague who called his name. He gripped his case full of papers and prayed he’d make it to his office before he exploded.

The kid at the desk, Tom or Tim or Tam or whatever called out, but the words had no meaning and John ignored him, too.

His mind clouded with images of Rose, legs spread on his desk, fingers buried in her pussy, her beautiful mouth open as she came. Her breasts—did she play with them? She liked her nipples tugged when she was close.

Was one hand fucking her pussy and the other twisting her nipple?

John wanted to watch her. Wanted to do that—twist her nipples as he fucked her, watch her come with his name on her lips as she clenched around him, hot and tight and all his.

No one wandered the halls, but then he didn’t care if they did. Rose, he learned their first time together, was not only a screamer but she had more than a bit of exhibitionism in her. His cock swelled.

Every step down the hall to his office ached, but he moved quickly anyway. He needed to see Rose. Hear her. Smell the scent of her arousal as she came. How many orgasms could she finger herself to in the time it took him to walk here?

She said the office door was unlocked. Of course it was, his little minx. Twisting the handle, John pushed it open and saw the most beautiful sight in the world.

Rose, head thrown against the back of his chair, legs spread wide and braced on his desk. She had hiked the dark green sundress he loved over her breasts. One hand was buried between her legs, frantically rubbing her clit, and the fingers of her other did, indeed, twist her nipple.

John closed the door but didn’t flick the lock. She met his gaze, eyes heavy and dark, but her fingers still moved. Her skin flushed a lovely pink, spreading all the way to her nipples.

“Rose.” He choked on the word, cock aching to be buried in her, but John didn’t touch himself.

He stalked the few feet across the room, brightly lighted by the overhead lights. Rose didn’t stop, and he knew she was close. Again.

“How many, love?” he asked quietly. He rounded the desk and lifted one toned leg to rest on his lap. He lightly massaged her calf, her muscles trembling with each stroke. “How many times have you come? How many orgasms have you fingered yourself to?”

“Three.” The breathless admission shot through him and he leaned forward.

He took her hand, slipped her fingers from between her glistening lips and smelled the luscious scent of her arousal. Of her completion. John growled and, eyes locked on hers, slid her fingers into his mouth.

“John.” Rose moaned, hips jerking. Her fingers dug into her breast but she never looked away.

“Stand up,” he ordered.

John stepped back and waited while Rose stood on wobbly legs. Wisps of hair clung to her sweaty cheeks but she didn’t bother brushing them away. The skirt of her dress settled around her legs, hiding her from him though her breasts remained bared to his hungry eyes.

“Lean over the desk.”

Rose moved quickly, settling herself against the edge. Her heels, the black strappy ones he loved, gave her enough height so when she wiggled her hips, John knew her clit hit the edge of his desk.

He was never getting any work done in this office ever again.

John smoothed his hands up her bare thighs, bunching her skirt. Rose’s breath caught and she tilted her hips. He smacked her arse in warning. She stilled, but looked over her shoulder, a cheeky grin on her face.

“Three orgasms?” he repeated, settling the skirt around her naked hips.

“Yes.”

“Two smacks per orgasm,” he told her. “Six total.” John leaned over her. His cock rubbed against her arse, desperate to feel her skin against him. He didn’t undress, not yet. “And I want to hear you.”

“Yes,” Rose hissed. Her arse jerked back, and he stilled her hips.

“I know you can, so I want you to come from your punishment.” John ran his hands over her arse and Rose moaned.

“If you don’t, Rose, tomorrow you’ll go to work with your favorite egg vibrator.” Her breath caught and her hips jerked down, against the desk. She knew what he was about to say. “You won’t be able to come. You won’t be able to turn it off.” She moaned again and John once more stilled her hips. Rose arched into his touch but it wasn’t enough and they both knew it.

“And if you remove it or you do come, I’ll know.” He leaned over her, pressed her hard to the desk lip; enough to stimulate her but not enough for her to come. Her eyes darkened and her breath caught. Her fingers curled around the edges, scattering papers and pens unheeded to the floor.

“You won’t come until I say and I don’t know when that might be.”

“Yes,” she moaned again, though they both knew she was positioned just right and already so sensitive she’d have no trouble coming. Multiple times.

“Understand?”

“Yes.”

John stepped back, though his entire body protested and his cock ached. “Count for me, love.”

He swung hard, and Rose’s lovely pale arse darkened with his smack. “One.”

He loved spanking her and knew six smacks with his hand weren’t her limit. Not by a long shot.

“Two.”

Rose’s hips jerked against the lip of the desk as she unashamedly moved against it.

“Did you enjoy fucking yourself?” John demanded. 

“Three.” Rose came. She cried out, back bent, hair trailing over her shoulders.

“I’m sure the entire floor heard you,” he whispered against the back of her neck. “Do you enjoy that?”

“Oh,” she moaned, hips moving once more against the desk. “Yes.”

John didn’t give her time to recover, he smacked her again. “Answer me. Did you enjoy fucking yourself?”

“Four,” Rose gasped, entire body coiled tight, hips arching in quick, short thrusts against his desk. “I liked knowing I came in your chair. I liked knowing you’ll smell us for days.”

“Did you cry out?” John demanded.

“Five.” Rose nodded, hips jerking faster and faster “Yes. I called out your name. I didn’t care who heard. I hope the entire building did.”

John didn’t even wait for her to finish before he delivered the final smack. Without waiting for her to count, he turned her over and quickly shed his trousers.

Rose spread her legs, ready to welcome him into her body. Her skin flushed pink and her breathing came in short, shallow gasps. The office did smell like sex, and he loved every breath.

John bent her over the desk and thrust into her. He kissed her hard, bruising her lips and capturing her wrists. Her legs tightened around his hips, heels digging into his thighs. He didn’t care. Pounding into her, he set a punishing pace.

“Again,” he ordered, his own breath short.

He flicked his fingers over her sensitive clit and watched as she cried out in wordless pleasure. Still he moved; Rose’s breasts bounced with every thrust, her nipples hard peaks he wanted to taste.

“Once more, Rose,” he commanded. His own control was a hair’s breadth from snapping. “Come for me once more, love. I want to hear you.”

“John!” Rose cried, body convulsing hard with her sixth orgasm.

His control snapped. John thrust into her, so hard and so fast he thought she might come again. His own climax shot up his spine in white-hot pleasure.

He caught himself before he collapsed atop her, but only just. Breathing hard, John found her lips with his own and kissed her, lazily tasting her pleasure and, deeper, his Rose. She lay boneless beneath him, eyes closed, one hand gripping his hair.

“Are you all right?” he whispered. He pressed his lips to the side of her neck, nuzzling the soft skin there. His goatee scratched her, but they both loved that mark on her skin.

“Yes,” she breathed out the word. “I might never move again,” she admitted. Rose opened her eyes and met his gaze, lazy pleasure shining in the hazel depths. “I always wanted to have sex on this desk.”

John snorted and stood on shaking legs. He pulled out of her and reached for a handkerchief to clean her up. He moved the linen gently over her, careful of her sensitive clit. “All you had to do was say so, love. Any time. Six orgasms, eh? Might be a new record.”

Rose grinned, a tired, cheeky smile with her tongue caught between her teeth. “A record I’m willing to challenge any time with you, John Noble.”

Her breath caught when he accidentally brushed too hard over her clit and John whispered an apology. “I’m sorry, Rose.”

She only smiled at him again, acceptance and love in her expression. God, but he loved this woman. The thought didn’t terrify him as it had weeks ago when he realized it.

Her fingers danced down his chest, over his arms. She stretched but made no move to rise from her rather delicious position spread over his desk. John wanted to start at her ankles and kiss his way up her lovely legs to her perfect pussy; he wanted to tease and torment her nipples until she came from that, alone, screaming his name for the entire building to hear.

He wanted to take her home and make love to her in the privacy of their flat, her sounds all for him, only for him. John shook his head and pulled her to a standing position. 

“I’m never going to get any work done in here again.” He eyed her and steadied her on her heels. Fingers gentle, he fixed her dress, made sure her breasts were covered by the material. 

Rose laughed, a soft, light sound. “I could help you with that.”

Suddenly John had a vision of Rose, kneeling beneath his desk, arms tied behind her back, as she took him in her mouth. She met his gaze, her own knowing and aroused. Again. She looked from him to the floor and beneath the desk then met his gaze.

“And you say I’m the kinky one,” she admonished but there was no reproach in her tone. Only interest. Acceptance.

John careful pulled her to him and held her tenderly. He wanted her again, right now, but knew her limits. Though they pushed boundaries, he respected her, and her body, too much. Rose rested her hands on his shoulder and kissed him, deepening the kiss before he realized her intent.

“You are,” he told her. “But I do love you for it.”

“I should hope so,” she joked. Rose cupped his cheek and softened, all jokes melting with her gentle smile. “I love you, very much.”

“Rose—” he had no more to say. But Rose understood, she always did and rested her forehead against his.

Words barely described the depth of emotion he felt for her. They weren’t his forte, anyway, and yet he somehow managed not to scare her off. Chase her away.

“Come on, John.” She pulled back and lifted her bag from a spare chair. She shrugged on her deep red mac and swiped her fingers beneath her eyes. “I’m starved. And,” she added with a saucy wink over her shoulder, “I believe you promised me more at home?”

John took her hand, fingers easily finding their natural place, and held the door open for her. When they left the building, Rose head resting on his shoulder, Tommy—Timmy?—watched them, wide-eyed. Rose waved to him, smiling, and John wondered if the boy heard them through the office door.

But then Rose squeezed his hand and they turned for the Tube station. And home.


End file.
